The After-Echo

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The After-Echo

How long the echoes love to play

Around the shore of silence, as a wave

Retreating circles down the sand!

One after one, with sweet delay,

The mellow sounds that cliff and island gave,

Have lingered in the crescent bay,

Until, by lightest breezes fanned,

They float far off beyond the dying day

And leave it still as death.

But hark⁠—

Another singing breath

Comes from the edge of dark;

A note as clear and slow

As falls from some enchanted bell,

Or spirit, passing from the world below,

That whispers back, Farewell.

So in the heart,

When, fading slowly down the past,

Fond memories depart,

And each that leaves it seems the last;

Long after all the rest are flown,

Returns a solitary tone⁠—

The after-echo of departed years⁠—

And touches all the soul to tears.